


Adjustment

by AlacritiousEidolon (p_3a)



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_3a/pseuds/AlacritiousEidolon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrathion takes advantage of some time alone to get used to his new body and to work through some of his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adjustment

**Author's Note:**

> Although Wrathion is a transgender man, in this particular fic he is under the influence of a trinket which enhances his shapeshifting. Therefore, he has the type of body which would have him considered to be a cisgender man. Discussion of how he feels about this difference is included in the fic itself.

It was good to be home.

It was even  _better_  to be home and  _alone_.

Wrathion snuggled down in his blankets, listening passively to the rain still hammering down on the roof. He still would have preferred sunshine, but it was hardly like he was going to go  _outside_  with this particular task, now. Well. Unless Anduin had thought it was thrilling.

Anduin... troublesome little man. He'd been ill, recently, but Wrathion's hand still slid down his own abdomen in thought of what he'd be doing with him as soon as he was well enough. The  _teasing_ , for one - Wrathion had been honing a new  _technique_  with his magic which he was quite sure was going to leave his dearest Prince metaphorically  _breathless_.

His hand massaged his new cock to full hardness. It was taking him a surprisingly long time to get used to this new configuration of anatomy. He found that the sensations he was familiar with had shifted and, in some places, outright dulled; ironically compared to the  _rumours_  about the respective set of genitalia, his orgasms actually came  _slower_ , right now, than they did otherwise.

Not that he necessarily  _regretted_  such a thing. They were just as powerful, after all, and he  _relished_  the thought of being able to let Anduin give him one. Seeing  _his_  cum,  _his_  seed spread across the Prince of Stormwind's chest, his back,  _oozing_  out of his behind - Wrathion gave a soft gasp as the images filled his mind. Oh, he was  _very_  much looking forwards to  _that_.

He grasped his cock and began to stroke his length. He'd chosen it very specifically to please Anduin; the same length and breadth as the wooden prosthetic that the man had so kindly and thoughtfully provided Wrathion with all those months ago. Somehow, he still couldn't bring himself to think that he wouldn't use it again; the fundamentally  _different_  sensations were  _both_  things he wanted to experience, he was finding. That was progress, he supposed. Perhaps in time, he'd once again be fully comfortable with his body - no matter what form it took - and be able to change between his two primary configurations at-will, not when his gender dysphoria dictated it.

For now, he was  _very_  comfortable with finding just the right amount of pressure and speed to move his hand at. He found the head often too sensitive to touch directly, though he was sure  _all_ of his consorts would derive  _great_  pleasure from teasing him with that; his other hand moved down to cup his balls, though not squeeze. He'd learned  _that_  lesson already.

He arched his back as he slid his thumb over his tip firmly, eyes sliding shut and ears full of the sound of the rain and his own moans. His precum wasn't a surprise, but it  _was_  welcome; he moved his other hand upwards to resume the task of his first while he brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked languidly on it, savouring the taste of himself.

Inevitably, his thoughts returned to his consorts. The way the second's ancient blood had danced on his tongue, the way she'd teased and tickled and left him wanting,  _needing_. The way the third had squirmed and  _demanded_  of him; how sweet his victory had tasted; and after it, how her claws and teeth and words had raked at his skin in the most delightful of ways and left him  _begging_.

And, of course, the first and foremost: the way his cries made something in Wrathion's heart  _sing_ ; the way his hair, cropped short and tossed in the moonlight, swayed in time with their moving; the way the whispered secrets their bodies shared were simultaneously the most frightening and liberating thing Wrathion had ever experienced.

He barely managed to muffle his cry in time with a hand stuffed in his mouth for him to bite as he peaked, aftershocks shuddering him for a good few moments after his cum had spattered across his stomach. He had to take a few breaths to calm himself, remove the fist from between his jaws, before he could clean up; and, of course, he took great glee in doing so, the taste of himself bringing him 'round to half-hard again before he was finished.

He fondled himself again - but it was sluggish, tired, and sleep took him before another peak began to rise. His rest was as pleasant as the blankets he'd surrounded himself with, and his dreams were just as soft and sweet as his dear prime consort.


End file.
